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The Crosse. |
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Since Christ embrac'd the Crosse it selfe, dare I |
His image, th'image of his Crosse deny? |
Would I have profit by the sacrifice, |
And dare the chosen Altar to despise? |
It bore all other sinnes, but is it fit |
That it should beare the sinne of scorning it? |
Who from the picture would avert his eye, |
How would he flye his paines, who there did dye? |
From mee, no Pulpit, nor misgrounded law, |
Nor scandall taken, shall this Crosse withdraw, |
It shall not, for it cannot; for, the losse |
Of this Crosse, were to mee another Crosse. |
Better were worse, for, no affliction |
No Crosse is so extreme, as to have none; |
Who can blot out the Crosse, which th'instrument |
Of God, dew'd on mee in the Sacrament? |
Who can deny mee power, and liberty |
To stretch mine armes, and mine owne Crosse to be? |
Swimme, and at every stroake, thou art thy Crosse, |
The Mast and yard make one, where seas do tosse. |
Looke downe, thou spiest out Crosses in small things; |
Looke up, thou seest birds rais'd on crossed wings; |
All the Globes frame, and spheares, is nothing else |
But the Meridians crossing Parallels. |
Materiall Crosses then, good physicke bee,
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[CW: But] |